If I Die

7

I blinked in the dark, confusion covering me like a blanket over my head. Why was I awake? Then Styx growled, and I realized two things at once: I was in my room, and I wasn’t alone.

I sat up, heart pounding, pulse whooshing in my ears. Light from the hall painted a strip of color over one corner of my desk and the end of my bed, while the rest of the room stood shrouded in shadow. Styx lay near my footboard, curled up like she was still asleep, except for her raised head, shining black eyes, and sharp teeth, exposed as she growled in warning.

Avari. Harmony had said Styx would wake up if a hellion came anywhere near me, even from the other side of the world barrier, and though I’d managed to piss off two other hellions—Belphagore and Invidia—in the six months since I’d learned I was a bean sidhe, Avari would always be my default guess. My go-to bad guy, a title awarded on the basis of persistence alone.

It creeped me out to know that Avari was wandering around the Netherworld version of my house—a field of razor wheat—with nothing separating us except for the world barrier. Was he trying to possess me again? He couldn’t take over my body while I was conscious, which is why Styx’s job—half guard dog, half security alarm—was so important. And that was also why I was under orders to wake my dad up if Styx so much as growled in her sleep.

I crawled out from under the covers and stretched to reach her fur, stroking her in reward for a job well done on my way out of bed.

“Well, look who’s all grown up.”

I jumped at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, then sat up slowly, skin crawling as I reached for my bedside lamp. It wasn’t Avari. It couldn’t be—unless he’d possessed someone else and broken into my house.

Shit, shit, shit! I flipped the lamp switch and every dark silhouette in my room was thrown into full color, the sudden light blinding me for one long moment. I blinked rapidly, fighting off panic as I waited for my vision to adjust, but when it did, it brought no answers—only more questions.

A man sat in my desk chair, watching me silently, arms crossed over the front of a white button-up shirt. His dark eyes glittered with some perverse version of anticipation or amusement, as if he knew me and was waiting for a familiar reaction. But I’d never even seen him before—I would have remembered that face. Smooth and young, with a strong chin and wide forehead. If I’d seen him at a party, I would have watched him—or watched Emma fawn over him. But in my room, in the middle of the night…?

“Get out.” I slid off the mattress on the opposite side, and squatted to pull an aluminum baseball bat—one of Nash’s spares—from beneath the bed. I was no stranger to late-night unwanted company.

“Do you even know who I am?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Unscheduled visitors rarely brought good news—just ask Jacob Marley. “Get out now, or I’ll yell for my dad.”

The stranger settled farther into my chair, getting comfortable. “How is your dad?” he asked, still watching me eagerly, like he’d rather read my thoughts than hear me speak. “I haven’t seen him in, what? Thirteen years?”

No, no, no… I shook my head, but I couldn’t deny the swift understanding and terror colliding within me. “Thane?” I whispered, suddenly cold all over.

He was early.

“No. You can’t be here yet.” I glanced into the hall and started to yell for my dad—until I remembered what Tod had said. If my dad got in Thane’s way, Thane would kill him. That would give us proof enough to get Thane fired, but my dad would still be dead.

Instead of shouting, I backed slowly away from the bed, tightening my grip on the bat, for all the good it would do. I could handle this myself. “I still have four days, and you’re not gonna—”

“Relax.” Thane smiled, and no matter how pretty he was, I couldn’t shake the certainty that kittens everywhere were suddenly screeching in pain from the mockery of joy that had just settled onto his face. “I just thought we should formally meet, since I’m going to be the last thing you ever see.”

I took a deep breath, trying desperately to focus on the fact that he hadn’t come to kill me—yet—instead of on the fact that he’d come at all. “Do you always show up early to taunt your victims?”

“You’re not a victim, you’re an assignment,” Thane said, watching as I made myself climb back onto the bed and lay the bat at my side on the comforter, as if I wasn’t terrified and in shock. “Do you always act like having a reaper in your bedroom is a matter of course?”

Show no fear.

I shrugged and tucked my legs beneath me, glad I’d slept in pajama bottoms. “I know interesting people.”

“Of course. Because you’re a bean sidhe, right?” the reaper said, as if he’d just remembered. “And that makes me one very lucky worker bee. The average reaper will go his entire afterlife without ever encountering a nonhuman soul, and here I’ve got the opportunity to reap yours for a second time. It doesn’t get much better than this…” Thane rolled the chair close enough that his knees touched my mattress, still eyeing me boldly, studying me. “Except for reaping your mother.”

My hand flew before my brain caught up with it. A second later, my palm throbbed, and an angry red patch marred his smooth, stubbleless cheek.

Thane threw his head back and laughed, and I glanced at the door, hoping my father would sleep through the whole thing. Hoping Thane was audible—and inexplicably corporeal—only to me.

“Well, aren’t you fun!” he said, raising one hand to his cheek. “Who would have guessed that the toddler who once died without a whimper would grow into such a hellcat!” He leaned closer, and I held my breath. “It’s almost a shame I have to extinguish such a bright flame, but it’s true what they say about life being unfair. Death, however, is the great equalizer. Death comes to everyone, eventually, and you have the honor of meeting him twice.” Thane leaned back in my chair and recrossed his arms. “Lucky, lucky girl…”

“Get out.” I picked up the bat again, thrilled to find fury overwhelming my fear. “Get the hell out of my room and don’t come back.”

“Or what? You’ll sic your father on me?” He raised both brows in silent challenge, and I wanted to hit him again. With the bat this time. “He’s a sad, desperate man, with the potential to become a real thorn in my side. But you have to respect his determination to save his daughter. Too bad it’s not going to work.”

I didn’t really want to know, and I certainly didn’t want to prolong Thane’s visit or admit my own ignorance. But I had to ask. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s been hanging around the local reaper office for two days, begging anyone who’ll listen to let him trade his expiration date for yours. It’s not going to matter, though. Your file has a big red ‘special circumstances’ sticker on the front, and the notation inside states clearly that you’ve already had one date exchange and are thus ineligible for another.”

Uh-oh.

“I don’t suppose you know how he found the local headquarters, do you?” Thane asked, and I shook my head, though it had to be Tod. Who else could have told him? Who else would even know?

Thane looked like he didn’t believe me, but didn’t really care one way or another. “As amusing as the whole thing would be, if it weren’t so pathetic, if he doesn’t back off soon, he might find his expiration date exchanged for someone he’s never even met.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, fury burning bright behind my eyes, a headache in full bloom. “To threaten my dad?”

The reaper laughed again, softer this time, and I already hated the sound. “That’s just a bonus. I’m here to get to know you. By my count, we have several days to spend together before our business is concluded, and I say we make the most of it. How do you feel about Mexican takeout?”

Was he serious? “Why are you doing this?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never reaped a soul from someone who knew what was coming, so I look forward to observing your last days, studying how you cope as you count down the hours. Like a fish in a glass bowl…”

“You’re psychotic.”

Another shrug. “Nah. Just bored. But don’t mistake my interest for sympathy. Nothing will stop me from ending your life when the time comes.”

“When is that?” I asked, trying hard not to reveal how desperate I was for that nugget of information. “When am I supposed to die?”

For a moment, he only watched me, and I got the feeling he was trying to decide whether I’d suffer more from knowing or from not knowing. “I think this will be more fun as a surprise,” he said finally, and I groaned on the inside. “See you soon, Kaylee.”

Then he was gone, and I was alone with my own fear and anger. And with Styx, who glanced around the room, sniffed the air once, then curled up and went back to sleep, secure in the knowledge that the big bad reaper was gone.

But I couldn’t sleep—not after what had just happened. Not knowing it could happen again, at any time. Not knowing my father had spent the entire weekend painting a target on his own back, for me.

I lifted my cell from the charger on my nightstand and autodialed Tod. He answered on the first ring. “Kaylee?”

“Did you tell my dad how to find the local reaper office?” I demanded, without a greeting.

Tod sighed. “You in your room?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause. Then, “Are you dressed?”

For just a split second, I considered saying no, and I wondered if he’d take that as deterrent or motivation. Then I came to my senses. “Pjs.”

He appeared at the foot of my bed an instant later, already sliding his phone into his pocket as he pushed Styx over and sank onto the mattress. She growled at him until I patted a spot next to my right hip, and she curled up there, content to watch him in threatening silence.

“I’m sorry,” Tod said, one bent leg on my comforter. “I was trying to help.”

“How is telling my dad where to go beg for my life possibly helping? You know they’re not going to make the trade.”

“That’s why I sent him there. Because they won’t do what he wants, but they won’t hurt him, and Thane’s not going to make a move on him while he’s in a building full of other reapers.” He shrugged, and it got a little harder for me to stay mad at him. “Besides, that way I know where he is, and I can check up on him without having to hunt him down.”

“Oh.” When he put it like that, it sounded kind of…smart. “Well, then…thanks for keeping my dad out of trouble.”

Suddenly nervous, for no reason I could pin down, I fidgeted with the handle of Nash’s bat, and Tod noticed.

“You know, most girls sleep with a teddy bear or an extra pillow. But I gotta say, that’s kinda hot…”

My cheeks blazed on the lower edge of my vision. “Nash gave it to me. But I wasn’t sleeping with it. I…” I shook my head and started over. “Thane was here, Tod. That’s how I knew Dad was at your office.”

“Thane was here? In your room?” He sat up straight, eyes churning with cobalt streaks of anger like I’d never seen from him before. “Please tell me you bashed his skull in.”

“No, but I did slap him. He’s planning to watch me to see if I crack up, knowing I’m going to die in a few days. Can he do that?”

His dimple disappeared beneath a dark scowl. “Yeah, but he’s not supposed to tell you he’s doing it. You’re never supposed to see your own reaper.”

“Would that be enough to get him fired, if I told Levi?”

Tod shrugged. “If he were a rookie and you were a clueless human, yeah. But since he’s not, and you’re not, it’d probably just derail his promotion and get him knocked a peg or two down the ladder. Which would piss him off.”

“I don’t suppose you’re any closer to proving he’s done anything else?”

“Not yet. I’ll get him, though, Kaylee,” Tod said, and that look was back. His irises were too still, like there was something he didn’t want me to see. And when I realized how badly I wanted to see it, I glanced down and noticed I was playing with the bat again.

My weak laugh sounded nervous, even to my own ears. “I guess I should tell Nash he was right about the bat. It did come in handy.”

Tod leaned forward to catch my gaze, and a blue twist of fear churned in his. “Kaylee, you can’t tell him about Thane. Anyone Thane sees as a threat is in danger. The irony there is that if he killed Nash, or your dad, or whoever, we’d be able to catch him with an unauthorized soul. But it’d be too late for whoever he took.”

A chill ran the entire length of my body. I’d known that, of course, but I hadn’t actually thought it through that far. No one else could know about Thane. No matter what.

“You want me to stay the night, in case he comes back?” Tod asked. I glanced at him in surprise, but he was serious.

“Don’t you have to work?” He was less than two hours into his shift.

“I could ask someone to cover for me.”

I stroked Styx’s fur, but she refused to sleep as long as he was there. “I thought you were out of favors.”

“Yeah, now I’m taking on debt,” he admitted. “But I can handle it.”

“Would Thane be able to see you, if he comes back?”

Tod nodded. “Reapers can’t hide from one another. I can’t, anyway. Maybe if I had more experience…”

“But if he sees you here, he’ll know you know about him, and your investigation will be hosed,” I said. Tod started to argue, but I cut him off. “You have to stay away from him and find proof. I’ll be fine—till Thursday, anyway.”

He nodded again, reluctantly, this time. “I’ll let you know when I find something. Until then…keep sleeping with the bat.”

When Tod left, Styx went back to sleep, like her night had never been interrupted.

I lay awake for another hour and a half, listening to her breathe.

Sabine was waiting by my locker on Monday morning—not the beginning I’d hoped for on the third-from-final day of my life. But honestly, considering my luck, it fit.

“So, how’d it go?” she asked, leaning against the locker next to mine while I entered my combination, and for several seconds, I thought she was talking about the unscheduled appearance of my own personal reaper. Then I remembered she didn’t know about that…

Sabine was talking about me and Nash. He obviously hadn’t told her that our plans had been interrupted. Again.

“I thought we weren’t that kind of friends.” My locker clicked open and I shoved my French text inside, then pulled out my algebra book.

“We’re not. I just…”

When she hesitated, I glanced up to find her avoiding my gaze. Sabine wouldn’t lie to me—that would violate whatever kind of screwed-up moral standard she subscribed to—but that didn’t mean she necessarily liked the truth.

I sighed and slammed my locker. “We didn’t do it. Happy now?”

The hallway seemed to get a little brighter, and her black eyes actually shined. “More like satisfied. For the moment, anyway. But honestly, I’ll be a lot closer to happy on Friday. Not because you’ll be dead, but because Nash won’t be tied to you anymore.”

I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to smack her. I’d done it once, and that fact seemed to make subsequent urges harder to resist. But giving in would break our truce and probably affect her willingness to help me with Mr. Beck. Also, she’d hit back, and I was less than confident in the local undertaker’s ability to hide a broken nose with pancake makeup.

“Why did you even give me advice, if you don’t want me to sleep with him?”

Sabine frowned, like I made no sense. “It’s like we were born on different planets. Is your world really that black-and-white?”

“What does that even mean? And I don’t have time for one of your speeches right now.”

“It means that even though I’m willing to go through you to get Nash back, I like you, too. That’s a little bit of a conflict for me.”

I slammed my locker shut and faced her directly. “Why do you like me, Sabine?” I couldn’t figure that one out. I would have been perfectly fine with her hating me, so long as that didn’t put me in the direct line of fire from the creepy-vibes she leaked whenever she got mad. Or from her killer right hook.

“I’m not sure.” Sabine tossed long, dark hair over her shoulder and the cartilage piercing in her left ear shined in the overhead lights. “You don’t have any outstanding qualities, other than a gritty determination I can’t help but relate to.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning, you tend to grow on people. Like some kind of persistent fungus.”

It was very clear, however, why I didn’t like her.

“So, you give me vaguely girlfriendly advice about sex, then cross your fingers and hope I don’t have it with Nash. Is that how this plays out in that warped, shriveled little cerebrum of yours?”

She shrugged. “More or less.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was actually “less,” and I knew that if I pressed for details she’d give them to me—along with significant TMI about her former relationship with Nash. But life—especially mine—was too short to waste time picturing her making out with my boyfriend. So I changed the subject.

“You’re still going to talk to Mr. Beck today, right? When do you have him?”

“Sixth period. And yeah, I’m actually looking forward to your cheesy little spy mission.” She glanced around the hall like a bored housewife tired of her own décor. “This place has been dull as shit since we got rid of the hellions.”

“Okay, first of all, ‘we’ didn’t get rid of the hellions.” I zipped my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. “You tried to sell me and Em to them.”

Sabine rolled her eyes. “I said I was sorry about that….”

“And second of all, they’re not gone—they’re just stuck in the Netherworld. Which is why you are not supposed to make people cross over in their sleep.”

She actually grinned. “Damn, how long can you hold a grudge?”

“Four days more. Then you’re in the clear. Bonus points if you figure out what Mr. Beck is today. I’m kinda short on time.”

“I’m all set to feel him out.”

“Feel who out?” Nash asked, sliding one arm around me from behind.

“Beck.” Sabine’s grin widened. “Kaylee wants to know what he is, so I’m going undercover. Maybe literally.”

“She’s kidding about that last part,” I insisted, setting my bag on the floor so I could slide closer to Nash.

He huffed. “No she’s not.”

I glanced at Sabine, and the mara shrugged. “I’m gonna play that part by ear. I figured I’d start with a little dyslexia, then move on to a basic incomprehension of functions. It’ll soon become obvious that I need more help than he can provide during class, so he’ll ask me to drop by after school. He’ll explain patiently, I’ll stare adoringly into his eyes and take every possible chance to touch him, letting him know in no uncertain terms that I am—tragically—available.”

Nash exhaled, long and low. Like he was grasping for patience, and it was too slippery to hold. “Sabine, you can’t hit on a teacher.” He sounded frustrated, but not really surprised.

She frowned. “Yes I can. The taboo you’re thinking of is the reverse of that. Which’ll probably also happen, if I do this right.”

“That’s not just a taboo, it’s illegal,” I said. She was already planning to go further than I’d intended.

“For him, not for me,” Sabine insisted, and when neither of us conceded her point, she propped both hands on her hips, where a ring of bare flesh showed above the low waist of her khakis. “Look, if he’s a good guy, he won’t take the bait. If he’s not, regardless of species, he deserves whatever he gets. But you’ll never know for sure unless we give him a chance to actually take the bait. Right? Fortunately for you—” her gaze narrowed on me and her grin grew “—I’m willing to take one for the team. But only because he’s hot. If we were talking about Coach Rundell, you’d have to find yourself another underage carrot to dangle.”

Nash groaned, and I twisted in his grip to find him frowning at me. “I just wanted her to find out what he is, I swear,” I said. “She’s improvising.”

“I know.” He pulled me closer and refocused on the mara. “This is a bad idea, Sabine. What if he’s something dangerous? He obviously doesn’t wanna be outed….”

“I’m something dangerous.” She shrugged. “Besides, if he sticks to math and stays away from my anatomy, he won’t be outed. He’ll never even have to know what I know.”

Nash’s frown deepened, and I recognized the concern swirling slowly in his eyes. He was worried about her. “You have an amazing ability to gloss right over the point.” The mara tugged her backpack strap higher on one shoulder. “It’s a gift.”

“How did Kaylee talk you into this, anyway?”

She lifted one brow at me, like we shared some special secret. “Advance payment for the favor she’ll be doing me on Thursday.”

The blood drained from Nash’s face, and I wanted to melt into the floor. “That’s messed up, even for you, Bina,” he snapped. “This is hard enough for me to handle without the two of you joking about it.”

Sabine frowned, clearly confused by his reaction. “We’re not joking. She dies, I inherit you. We’ve got it all worked out.”

Nash glanced back and forth between us, obviously at a loss for words.

“It’s okay, Nash.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, and it hurt going down. “Look, I don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to wind up with someone else. But I’m not going to ask you to spend your whole life mourning me. I saw what that did to my dad.” It took another deep breath to prepare me for the rest of what I had to say. “Besides, I know I’m the only thing keeping the two of you apart, and I know you’ll eventually wind up together again with me gone. I’m making peace with it. Just promise you won’t go over to the dark side until after the funeral.”

“Kaylee, what the hell is wrong with you?” Nash demanded. “This isn’t funny. This is your life!”

“No, this is my death,” I whispered, well aware that people were glancing at us now, on their way to class. “And I’m dealing with it the only way I know how. I’m providing support for the people I’m leaving behind. I’m crossing things off my very last to-do list. And I’m desperately trying to distract myself from everything else by focusing on other people’s problems.”

Nash stared at me like he’d never seen me before. “I don’t want to think about what life’s going to be like on Friday, and I don’t understand how you can be so calm about this!”

Fighting fresh tears, I pulled him into the alcove by the restrooms, and Sabine followed at an almost respectful distance. “How am I supposed to react?” I dropped my bag on the floor again and stared up at him, silently challenging him not to look away. “You want me to pull out my hair and start wailing for myself? I’m trying to accept this with dignity and good humor. You’re only making that harder.”

“That’s because this is hard,” Nash insisted. “It’s supposed to be. We were supposed to have hundreds of years together, and now we don’t even have hundreds of hours. I’m not okay with that, and I’m not going to pretend I am.”

The first hot tear rolled down my cheek, in spite of my determination not to cry. “Fine. I understand. But I have to deal with this my way, and you can either be a part of that or you can walk away.”

Please, please don’t walk away… The only thing more terrifying than knowing I was going to die was knowing I’d be alone when it happened.

“I’m not going to turn my back on you, Kaylee.”

“Thank you.” I stood on my toes to kiss him and blinked away more tears. “Because this is really scary for me, and no matter what else I fill my head up with, it’s always there, in the back of my mind, just waiting for a chance to shove everything else over and take center stage.” As Thane had shown me less than six hours earlier.

Nash’s arms wound around me again and he held me close enough to whisper in my ear. “Well, maybe I can take your mind off it for a little while tonight, if your dad’s going to be out again.”

“He won’t be home till dinner,” I said, and my pulse jumped a little at just the thought of finishing what we’d started.

Sabine cleared her throat to get our attention, but it was too late. Coach Tucker, the girls’ softball coach, was marching across the hall toward us, pink detention pad in hand. “I saw that, Mr. Hudson,” she called, already scribbling on the pad with a red pen. She stopped two feet away, ripping the first slip off the pad, and handed it to Nash. “And you, Ms. Cavanaugh. Kylee…” she thought out loud, already writing on the next sheet.

“It’s Kaylee,” I corrected.

“My mistake.” She scribbled through whatever she’d already written and started over. “And your mistake was the public display on school grounds. That’ll get you a detention apiece.”

I glanced at Nash to find him grinning at me, the browns and greens in his eyes swirling with mischief. I shrugged and went up on my toes again, speaking to Coach Tucker even as my lips met Nash’s. “Better make it two.”

It’s not like I’d be there to serve them.